What Lies Within
by the ticklish pear
Summary: Josephine was just an ordinary merchant's daughter until the day her father died. Now, scarred in more ways than one, she must survive in a world judged by appearances. Can anyone look past the marks to see what lies within?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from any of the Inheritance Cycle or the Harry Potter books.

A/N. Every night I make up stories in my head to help me fall asleep and this one never seems to get old. Enjoy.

Tear trails across Josephine's cheeks gleamed in the candlelight as she clung to the bedside of her dying father. His breaths were quick and shallow and she hastily wiped away the tiny streams as his eyes fluttered open.

"My brave little Joe…" he said smiling sadly up at her face. "Do not worry for me--- " Spasmed coughs took over his body and he shook from head to toe.

"Take the cording around my neck," he wheezed. She reached for it and delicately unclasped the knot from the loop and gently pulled it from under him. It was a lock of raven colored hair intricately braided into a necklace of sorts.

"It is your mother." He gasped between breaths. Her eyes went wide with understanding and held it up to a lock of her own hair. Hers was brown but definitely similar in length and quality. She had never known her mother and her father would refuse to tell her anything about her.

"Please understand… it was to protect you… " He said as if he had read her mind. He shuddered violently and breathed his last breath. She climbed onto his bed and cried herself to sleep next to his lifeless form.

***** TIME LAPSE*****

It had been nearly a week since her father's death and Joe was struggling to keep herself afloat. The tax collectors and debtors had taken nearly everything and she was left with nothing but the clothes on her back and enough money to rent a bed in community housing. She managed to get herself a job as a surf under one of Galbatorix's generals, but the labor was tiresome and the pay little. But today was her day of rest and she felt never as free from life and its burdens as she did that day racing through fields of wild flowers, weaving them into a lovely crown. It was a bit childish to be flitting about the meadows like that at her age, but she did not care. Her pace slowed as she entered the graveyard, her bare feet barely making a sound against the dirt path between burial mounds. She came to rest at her father's grave, laying herself gently over the broken earth.

"I miss you so much." She whispered and took in a deep breath of the ground's earthy musk. Footsteps approached from behind and interrupted her visit. She rose quickly. A brightly embellished man followed by to burly ones came nearer to her and she took a cautious step backwards.

"Are you Josephine Elmota Mantus?" The pretty one demanded of her.

"Yes." She replied slowly, feeling the distinct urge to run.

" I have come to seek payment on your father's debts. But, seeing that he is forever ill disposed," he said gesturing to the grave, "I will be expecting it from you." He held his hand open for payment but Joe shook her head.

"But there is nothing left; everything has been taken." Fear rose in her chest as the two men surrounded her and the demanding one forcibly took hold of her face. She strained to pry his hand away as he studied her features.

"You are somewhat of a pretty thing aren't you?" he glanced at the others. "Take her to the Whore house and see what you can get for her." He said as he shoved her head back and the two men took hold of her arms. She thrashed wildly trying to escape but they held on like a vice. She opened her mouth to scream, but her attempts were met with a vile tasting drug and soon she was shut off from the world.

She awoke lying on the floor of a wooden rowboat occupied by the same two burly men. Her limbs were numb and wrists bound together with coarse rope. The boat jarred as it made dock and she was lifted out of the boat and to her feet. She swayed dangerously and tried hard to focus on the man in green who was walking around her like a vulture. He stopped in front of her, looked her up and down once or twice, and then glanced at the two men.

"Fifteen gold." he announced. One of the guards holding her captive scoffed.

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty."

"Done." The man in green tossed the larger henchman a bag of gold and grabbed her arm. Her knees buckled below her and he yanked her back up.

"Walk." He growled, tightening the grip around her arm. She followed him somewhat absent-mindedly and took in the foreign surroundings. She was stable enough in the mind to conclude that she must be in a watery entrance to the dungeons of Uru'baen. The thought made her shiver from more than just the cold. He led her down an adjoining tunnel that was lined with rooms that were more like closets than they were rooms. She caught glimpses of the gaunt faces of scantly clad women and girls living in the tiny spaces. Bile rose in her throat and made something in her mind click. She yanked her arm way from his grasp and took off the other way. He soon caught up with her and pinned her against the wall.

"You think that's funny, do you?" he screamed in her face while shaking her violently against the wall. He put his mouth up to her ear.

"I think you need to be taught a little lesson" he whispered and forced a knee between her legs. She spit in his face and hit him as hard as she could with her straddled leg in the fork between his legs. Pain bent his body but he kept a clawed grip on her shoulder. He regained himself and raised a hand to strike her, but was stopped in mid swing.

"Playing with our work again, Roan?" seethed the new stranger. Joe dared to raise her eyes at the man. He was clothed in dark robes, smelled greatly of sweet tobacco, and his mustache curved upward like the smile of a Cheshire cat.

"I got a great deal on her sir." said Roan, who was clearly not in a great situation at all with his boss.

"How much?"

"Twenty Gold"

"Twenty gold!? We'll barely make a profit!" The boss roared, but Roan held up his hand and pushed away the hair hiding Josephine's ear.

"They look Pointy don't they? I think enough to pass her off as an elf." He said and smiled at his boss, who was concentrating hard on the matter.

"A fortune indeed," he agreed. "Take her to be prepped for sale." Roan dragged her to a room where she was stripped naked and strapped to a backless chair. She tried her best not to scream as an amateur sorcerer used dark magic to pierce her ears, nipples, and navel with permanent whoring rings. A tattoo was seared between her shoulder blades that held the coat of arms of their establishment. She was put into a closet of her own where she drifted into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Josephine awoke with a start and gave an involuntary shiver when she remembered where she was. Her back and piercings stung as she hugged her knees in an effort to warm herself. She glanced around at her surroundings and spotted something rumpled on the ground near the door. She crawled cautiously toward it and discovered that it was some kind of sleeveless chemise. She scowled at the sheerness but it was better than being naked in a stone room. The door was covered with nothing but an old raggedy piece of material, but she dared not push it to the side. She began to hear a murmur of voices and footsteps coming closer. She crept up to the door and peered out of a small hole in the rag. The boss was accompanying a strange, eccentric woman down the hall. An odd looking cat was following them and looked straight at her when they passed. Joe weighed her options.

She was pretty sure that the boss and Roan were the only ones on duty. It was a fifty-fifty shot and she decided that was good enough for her. She listened hard for a moment and then made a quick dash the opposite way from the small party. Her heart threatened to burst through her chest as she snuck her way around several corners before coming to a part of the tunnels that she recognized. but a sickening sound made her heart drop.

"Hey!" Roan yelled in half surprise and anger. Joe ran for her life and was nearly a spear's length from the water's edge before being tackled around the ankles. Her chest heaved as he gained control over her and raised her to her feet. The lady and her feline friend were about to push off but now approached the struggling victim and her captor.

"I don't remember you showing me this one," said the lady to the boss.

"Well, I figured she was a little out of your price range."

"Let me be the judge of that." The lady began to examine her features and goose bumps formed on her skin as the cat rubbed up against her shins purring loudly. The woman seemed pleased.

"How much for her?" she demanded, but the boss wouldn't give easily. "Give it man, for I'm quite determined." Joe didn't like the gleam in her eyes.

" One hundred Gold." The lady looked shocked but quickly composed her face.

"Seventy five." The man shook his head.

"Ninety five." He almost sneered.

"Well that's a steep jump." She uttered sarcastically as the cat gave a low hiss.

"I can't sell her for just anything; she's an elf." He pulled back her hair. "See? Pointy ears. In fact, I'm really being quite generous" The woman came closer to where Joe could no longer bear to keep eye contact and lowered her gaze as she reached for the hair cording that still hung from Joe's neck. She rubbed the knotting with her thumb before glancing back towards the boss.

"Done." She uttered and tossed the man her coin pouch. Joe watched the world fade from view for the third time as she was once again drugged for travel.

********JOSEPHINE'S******MIND******IN*******LIMBO************

Joe's mind was still blurry when she awoke but she was definitely aware of something cold and slimy being rubbed onto one of her breasts.

"Calm down child!" a voice scolded as she tried to get up and find something to cover herself with. "It's hard enough to get this to heal without you moving about." She raised her head and stared in horror at her wounds, which looked about ten times worse than when she had left the whorehouse.

"I couldn't get them out. " the woman said apologetically, "it's some kind of dark magic I can't disengage." Joe let out an audible huff of air and allowed her head to fall back onto the wooden table she was supported on. It felt awkward lying there half naked letting some stranger apply herbal slave onto a private area like that, but her instincts told her that she was in no danger. Questions began to form in the forefront of her mind.

"Who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?" Her words were slurred and jumbled.

"Patience, everything will be revealed in time. Now, try and sit up." The woman directed and Joe did as she was told. She wrapped her breasts with several clean bandages before handing her a sleeping gown and settling her into bed. Joe did not wake until it was nearly afternoon the next day. She struggled groggily out of bed and her bare feet thudded loudly as she followed her nose to the front of what she believed was some kind of medicinal shop. Herbs and all kinds of odd ingredients were dangling from the ceiling and out from open drawers. The woman stood reclining against the counter near to a small cauldron, which was emitting a mouthwatering fragrance.

"Welcome," the woman uttered without even looking at her as she twisted something between her fingers. Joe's heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

"How did get this?" Joe demanded as she took her mother's lock of hair from her.

"Solembum brought it back with him." The werecat jumped from his lofty bed to the counter and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Ttthank you," she stuttered slightly, "I thought I had lost it forever."

"_It was my pleasure."_ He answered and slinked stealthily towards the brewing pot. Joe stood dumbfounded for a moment and then a smirk formed on her face.

"I knew something about you felt too human." She replied. The werecat turned his gaze toward the woman.

"_She seems to have some underlying __Clairsentience abilities."_

"Good, some talent will give us a head start." The woman turned to Joe. "What's your name child?"

"Josephine Elmota Mantus." She answered a little warily but the woman seemed pleased. "And yours?"

"I am Angela the Herbalist. Now sit and have some frog leg soup." Angela handed her a bowl. She hesitated for a moment at the sight of little frog toes peeping out from under the broth, but her stomach got the better of her and she dug in. She had finished nearly half of it before she noticed Angela staring at her with an odd expression.

"What?" she said feeling awkward and slightly self-conscious.

"Nothing, it's just that you resemble her a lot more than I expected."

"Who?" she garbled past a spoonful of soup.

"_Your mother."_ Solembum nonchalantly replied. Wasn't it obvious? A frog leg practically jumped from Joe's mouth and landed on the floor a distance away.

"How do you know my mother?" she demanded, now on her feet. Her guard was up now; something fishy was definitely going on, she could feel it.

"Your mother is Islanzadi, Queen of the Elves." Josephine felt whiplashed. Sure, she had heard of elves in stories and tales of the Dragon War but this lady was talking fiction here.

"That's really cruel." She snapped.

"I am not lying," Angela protested. "I was there the day she bore an illegitimate daughter to a man by the name of Graeon Sillire Mantus."

"Then why didn't she stay? Or at least come to know me? " Tears were now streaking down her face. She was overjoyed to learn about her mother, but she also felt hurt and angry at her choices.

"She really wanted to keep you, she did, but keeping you would have marked you as a prime target for Galbatorix. You must understand it was for you own good. She wanted you to have a normal life, not one spent on the run."

"Well my life has never been normal, and now I have no one to share it with."

"Oh…" Angela sighed, "I did not know. I am sorry for your loss." Joe stared out the window for a few moments until some thoughts surfaced in her mind.

"Why did you come find me? And how? You've made it quite clear that you never known my father."

"Well, one afternoon while I was working in the garden a flash of images came to me. The first was of Galbatorix's clutch of dragon eggs stowed away in his impenetrable treasury, then, one of a young woman whose features I could not see, stealing the eggs from Him, last was the hair chord you now wear around your neck. Solembum and I believe that you are destined to save the dragon eggs from Galbatorix's grasp, which would greatly help the Varden, since both Arya and their egg have sadly been lost."

"Who is Arya?"

"Your older half sister."

"And she's dead?!" Joe exclaimed

"I said LOST not dead, now sit down before you hurt yourself."

"This day just keeps getting better and better." Joe stopped her pacing and plopped herself back on the stool. "And who is her father?"

"Evandar the late King of the Elves. He was slain by one of the Forsworn. I believe that Islazadi met your father after she fled in sorrow. He must have been a very special man to win her heart. Elves normally pick only one partner for life you know, even if widowed." Joe sat quietly for a moment, and then made her decision.

"I feel that I must go through with this. Not because I am Indebted to you, but because I believe that it is the right thing to do. However, what you are asking of me is no laughing matter. My mother may not have wished to know me, but I feel that I have some right to know her. After my task would you be willing to help me find my sister?

Angela smiled widely.

"We start Tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

Early the next morning Joe awoke and stared dumbfounded at her surroundings until she realized what had taken place was not some big dream. She shivered at the chill of the morning air and wrapped herself with a shawl, tidied up her bedding and went in search for Angela. She found her in the small garden at the back of the shop organizing various herbs into their appropriate piles upon the ground.

"Good morning," she greeted from over her shoulder. Joe maneuvered her way around the little plant mountains and sat opposite from her.

"I thought we were starting training today," said Joe as she watched her sort plants with mild interest. She couldn't quite figure out what each particular stack was for.

"We are, but you are not even dressed. I suggest you go back and try again." She replied without looking up.

"But I haven't any clothes." Said Joe in a somewhat embarrassed tone.

"Go. Back. And. Try. Again." Angela ordered this time looking up. Joe got the picture and scuttled back into the shop to figure out what she meant. She retraced her steps to her room where a laundered stack of clothing awaited her as well as some salve and new bandages for her wounds. She stood there looking quizzical for a moment; she was dead certain that the bundle had not been there a few moments ago. Nonetheless, she pulled on the garments and made her way back to the door only to sheepishly peer around its frame.

"How are they?" Angela called as she turned to look at her. Joe scooted uncomfortably into full view.

"Um," she wavered, "a bit tight." But tight was an understatement. The tunic and breeches were melded to her body like a second skin. Both pieces were made of some soft, foreign material dyed an earthy greenish-brown. It was by no means stretchy, but lacing like a corset was set in the appropriate places to achieve the effect.

"Good," she replied, "that's the way it's supposed to be. Wearing frilly skirts during a covert operation would not only slow you down but would very likely get you killed." Joe shrugged her shoulders in mild acceptance and plopped down beside her.

"So, what's next?" Angela handed her a pea-sized pebble and pointed toward a sandy patch in the yard.

"Your first lesson is to remove all stones bigger than this from the garden starting there." Joe stared mouth agape until her mind was able to formulate words.

"But, that'll take weeks!"

"Not if you use what's inside you," Angela replied, prodding her in the chest with her finger. Then Angela gathered up her piles of herbs and made her way to the door. A mixture of confusion and frustration built in Joe's chest.

"What am I going to learn from sifting through rocks all day?" She waited for an answer but none came. "What is the point of this lesson Angela?" she lashed back. Angela stopped in her tracks.

"This lesson is for you to learn how to listen, and you will address me as ebrithil as long as you are my pupil, understood? Now get started before the sun gets too high." With that Angela shut the door behind her and left Joe to fume in the sand. She unclenched her fist and looked down at the stone and then to her surroundings where she spotted a stack of pots. Her thoughts sparked, she grabbed one and sent the pebble into its depths. It settled nicely into the drainage hole at the bottom of the pot and would not go through. With that, she set off to slowly sift away the stones.

It was nearing an hour and Joe felt more like a little kid playing in the dirt than a stealth trainee. She stopped for a moment to wipe her brow and stare up at the sun which was now directly above her. Her stomach grumbled but she dared not to go inside until her task was completed. Sighing heavily, she combed her hands through the pebble free sand and began to think.

_"Learn to listen. What's that supposed to mean? Sure, I get the importance of following directions but what does that have to do with rocks? Wait, I get it. She said 'use what's inside you,' but what's in there that I can use? What's special? Oh yeah, your mother stupid. You're half elf remember, and where there's elves there's magic. So..."_

And with that she set about formulating a new plan of attack. She set her sights on a particularly rugged pebble and tried to focus her mind and senses on it. Nothing Happened. Next came shouting "Come!" and "Move!" at the particularly rugged pebble while reaching out in various ways and odd angles. Again, nothing. After another failed attempt, she grabbed the mocking pebble and threw it clear over the next-door shop. She stormed towards the door and threw a violent swing at the rock pile. Shock washed over her as rocks shot unnaturally in all directions, most back into the sandy bed. The raw energy that she felt surging over her felt something like a surge of electricity through her spine, and then she fell to the ground panting and slightly dizzy. Smiling from ear to ear, Joe warily rose and wobbled as fast as she could.

"Ang—I mean, ebrithil, I moved them! I moved them all at once!" Joe called as she ran into the shop.

"Really? So the yard's all done?" she answered not looking up from her work.

"Well, not exactly. I had made a pile of them and when I got so frustrated and waved my arm and Whoosh, pebbles everywhere. It was such a rush and then I was so tired I almost fell on my—."

"So the Yard's not clean?"

"Well, no It's not." Joe replied feeling disheartened. "But I used magic, wasn't that the point?'

"The point was to listen, among other things. Now go back and try again."  
"But— ."

"Go. Back. And. Try. Again."

A.N. Hey Guys. Sorry it took me so long to write another chapter for you. I know it's a little short but i just needed to get one out there. things will be speeding up next chapter and i hope you guys are in for the long haul. please review it helps and encourages me. Plus, i would love to see what theories you have come up with.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks flew by in a flash as Joe was put through many mental and physical drills. She had no time dwell on the past events that had scarred her memory as every waking moment was spent either cramming in her studies of the ancient language or preparing her body for its use. One day after a particularly taxing exercise, Joe had had enough of holding her tongue.

"We have been at this for weeks, and you have yet to tell me a single detail of the raid."

"It will be reviled all in good time. Now come, let us continue on your vocabulary."

"I've had enough of your damned words!" she exploded as she slammed her mug of water against the store counter. Solembum's tail flicked in annoyance at the disturbance; his glowing eyes appearing from his cubby above. " You're just wasting time! My sister could be dead by now and I feel like you have been doing nothing but dragging this process out since we've started!" Angela took her time righting the mug and wiping up the spilt liquid before answering.

"Arya is a strong woman, an I've no doubt that wherever she may be she is strong enough to survive. I must admit, however, that I have not been totally honest with you Josephine. The fact is that I am only just formulating the details of the raid. Would you like to hear them?" Angela finished while resting calmly at the bar. It was at the point that Joe realized she was standing. She mentally scolded herself for being such an ass and lowered herself as well as her gaze back down.

"I am sorry Ebrithil, I would love to hear them." Angela eyed her before speaking.

" I have been gathering information from the servants that work in Ilirea, the past few weeks. The fortress is strong and the secret passage that was used to steal the egg was walled up long ago. However, I have been told that there is a small airshaft that the servants use to smuggle out food to their families and you might be able to squeeze through.

"What are we waiting for then?"

"One, you are not strong enough, and two, I will have absolutely no idea where the shaft is and where it ends up until I can get more of them to talk, and believe me it's not easy. They know that the consequences of revealing their secrets are too high to let out lightly. " Joe's face clouded with obvious disappointment and Angela could hardly take the sight.

"Now wipe that mope off of your face before I do it myself. I believe I am getting close to the information we need, and starting tomorrow, you will let your body rest and put as much energy you can into this." Angela handed her a small silver dagger with intricate designs and a deep green emerald mounted in the end of the handle.

"It's beautiful," Joe murmured in awe.

"It's your mother's. She gave it to me the last time I saw her, and I think it would suit you better than it does me. Cast as much energy as you can into that stone. You'll need all you can get. Until then, we will continue on your studies, agreed?"

"Yes Ebrithil."

"Good."

A few days later as Josephine was reading a scroll near the window, Angela came bursting through the shop door carrying a menagerie of goods.

"What's all this?"

"Your disguise," Angela huffed as she unloaded her things onto the counter. "I finally broke through with the Chandler, seems he can't resist a love potion for that little lady he's been eyeing these past few months." She chuckled and pulled out a peasant's gown and shawl. "The shaft is located near the base of the castle, and is sufficiently hidden from the general view of the public by the curvature of the wall. He's agreed to lower the basket rope to us tomorrow at midnight, but after that you are on your own."

"How will I complete the task in these?" said Joe holding the garments up to herself.

"You'll strip them when we reach the entrance, can't have you going in your 'work clothes,' people would suspect something." Joe nodded in agreement.

"How do I get to the keep?"

"The door to the keep is a floor below, but that's not how you will be getting in. I'm told that there is a barred opening in a servant's tunnel that one can look down into the keep. The window is used along with several mirrors to direct natural light into it from above. The only problem is, the window is three stories from the keep floor, so getting down is going to have to be your problem but I'm sure you'll come up with something in that head of yours."

"I'll have to. We might not get another chance at this."

"Listen to me carefully, you must enter the keep at exactly thirty minutes past twelve. This is when the guard changes and it will give you some time to make noise. Do not panic if they do hear you, however, because besides Galbatorix himself, no one is in charge of the key except for the shade, and he is away at present. Now, I suggest you go to bed early and cram as much energy as you can into your dagger. Solembum and I will give you as much as we can as well."

"Yes…goodnight." Joe wandered to her bedroom her head heavy with thoughts. She drew the curtains closed and tried to get some sleep, but found sleep hard to come by or filled with fitful dreams of failure. That day she could hardly sit still she was so full of suspense and time seemed to crawl at a sail's pace. When the time came to head out she was so nervous it was all she could do not to run behind a building and vomit.

"Be calm child, you are bringing stares." Angela whispered. Joe fidgeted with the shawl about her head and tried to keep her eyes toward the ground. They made their way to a local dock and rented a boat, which they rowed carefully to the base of the castle, keeping close to the shoreline for cover. Joe removed her disguise and carefully rigged all her gear close to her body. It was not long before a scraping sound of a large basket could be heard and then seen from the shaft opening. Joe grasped the rope and gave it a good tug to make sure it was secure. Then, looking back at Angela one last time, she began her assent. The further she climbed the narrower the shaft became until it was just small enough for her to press her legs and back into the walls and sit suspended. The air became stuffy with her heavy breathing but she could see a faint light up ahead. She continued to climb until her fingers grasped the edge of the opening, and making sure the coast was clear, she poured herself onto the floor. She lay there for a moment to catch her breath and took in her surroundings. She was in a narrow but tall hall that was dimly lit by a few sparse candles. The walls were of dark stone and tapestries that smelled of mildew hung from floor to ceiling. It looked like an older part of the castle that was not traveled often. Thinking quickly, Joe travelled quietly down the hall until she found a small door that the informant told them would lead to the light shaft window into the keep. Behind it revealed a set of steep stairs that brought her to an even smaller hallway. She spotted the ray of moonlight traveling across the hall and went to it. Sure enough, it lead to a barred window that shown directly into the keep. She had to stifle her own gasp as she gazed upon the piles upon piles of treasure littering the floor three stories below. She spied the gates to the keep and could just make out the outlines of two guards at the entrance and at the opposite side sat two dragon eggs in a nest made of gold. Suddenly a loud gonging sound made Joe jump. The gong signaled the end of the guard's watch and she waited until they abandoned their posts.

"_It's now or never"_ she thought to herself and began to formulate a plan. She headed back into the hall and retrieved one of the large tapestries from the wall. Using her mother's dagger, she cut it in half and tied the ends together. She then used some of her magic to rust out the bars; they fell quickly to the floor below and she waited with baited breath to reassure herself that she was not yet discovered. Securing an end to a bar, she lowered the tapestry and then herself down into the keep. All was going well until she heard a sound of shredding material and the scattering of many coins.

"Shit!" she spat as she gazed up at her only way out; the tapestry had torn two thirds of the way down.

"Who's there!" someone shouted followed by a pounding of armored footsteps. Joe scrambled to hide herself behind a mound of treasures preying to some higher power that they hadn't seen her. "Look above! Someone has infiltrated the keep. Alert the king immediately!" Joe felt like a caged rabbit knowing it was about to become a meal. She willed herself to control her shaking body and clumsily made her way over to the eggs, not caring to be seen.

"Don't touch those or you're dead!" the leader of the guards shouted at her as he clung to the gate.

"_I'm already dead…"_ she thought as she reached for the green egg. It felt cool to the touch and lighter than it should have for its size. It was much bigger than any object that she had ever transported before, but the reality was that she was not leaving this keep without being let out. She thought of her father as she recited the words Angela had taught her to perfection. A bright light enveloped the egg and she grasped her dagger willing all of its energy into the spell. Her reserve was depleted quickly and soon her body was being drained. She hoped for death as she fell to the ground and her world faded to nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

The sensation of a cold, hard surface slowly woke Josephine from her exhaustion-induced coma. Dim firelight assailed her muddied eyes as she struggled to make sense of her thoughts and surroundings. She soon discovered that she was prevented from moving by several chains and cuffs around her wrists, ankles, and neck. She found herself to be strapped to a large table in the center of what looked to be a dungeon. Terror took over her body as she gazed upon several greasy men controlling torture devices of all shapes and sizes. The animalistic screams of other prisoners as well as the vile smell of disease and death caused her to involuntarily retch and in turn make her consciousness known.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence." Said the large man tending the fire. Several others snickered and abandoned the work to gaze at their newest project. Joe unconsciously squirmed under their scrutiny as the fire tender came forward, wiping his hands on a sour looking rag.

"Inform the shade that the thief is awake," he commanded to a guard who nodded and quickly went out the door. He tilted the tabletop to where she was nearly standing upright. Joe stared at them wide eyed and perplexed.

"I am no thief." She managed to push through her dry throat. At this statement the room's inhabitants gave a hearty laugh.

"Then why do you think you're in here, yeh? For picking the wrong daisies?" snickers ensued.

"I'm doing the best that I can to pay my father's debts; I promise you'll get your money as soon as humanely possible. Now please release me." The group stared dumfounded at her reply.

"I think this one hit her head a little too hard on the way down." A man at the stretcher commented. The fire tender walked up to her until his face was a hand's length from hers and smiled with rotten teeth.

"I guess will just have to help jog her memory." The mood changed as Durza entered the room removing his cloak with dark elegance. His crimson eyes pierced Joe with unhidden violence as he plucked his gloves from his white, slender hands. His gaze moved over her slow and calculating and Joe struggled to keep panic from taking over. During her childhood there were always horror stories told of what a shade would do to people who had crossed them, and she was staring one dead in the face and she had no earthly idea why.

"Has she told you anything?" he hissed to the men.

"She seems to be having a bit of trouble remembering." Durza seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"String her up" he ordered. Immediately hands began to unlock the cuffs holding her to the platform. They led her to a free space in the room where her hands were bound behind her back by a rope, which was strung through a pulley attached to the rafters.

"We are going to play a little game," Durza announced. "The rules are simple: tell me what I want to know and you will be rewarded, if you refuse, you will be punished. Let us begin." Suddenly Joe's arms hoisted up behind her until she cried out in pain; her feet were still lightly planted on the ground.

"We'll start with an easy one. I want to know your name."

"Josephine, Josephine Elmota Mantis." She gasped out in ragged breaths as she tried to stand on her tippy toes to relieve the pain.

"Very good," he replied and nodded, signaling the man with the rope to lower her back down. Joe's knees threatened to buckle below her as she began to shake violently.

"Now things get a little more challenging. Josephine Elmota Mantis, where did you send the egg?" She remained silent. "Answer me!"

"I-I h-honestly have no idea what you are t-talking about." She was immediately hoisted back up until her toes only brushed the floor. Her shoulder muscles were in agony as they stretched beyond their limits and she could feel them starting to tear.

"Wrong answer," he told her past her screams and gasps of air. "I'm going to let you have one more chance to give me the correct answer before you receive punishment, but I want you to think long and hard before you do." At that, she was raised up until the men could walk about below her. She hung there for hours, her arms rising unnaturally far behind her head. Her hair stuck to her face as she poured with sweat, and the unnatural sound of her shoulders popping and tearing as well as the immense pain caused her to vomit out what little she had from her stomach. And as if her body weight wasn't doing its job, the men would pull at her feet or cause her to swing if they felt she wasn't making enough noise. When Durza returned, she was barely hanging on to consciousness. They lowered her to the floor, where she was able to suck in unhindered gulps of air. She lay untouched for several minutes until the shade felt she was able to give him an answer.

"Where is the egg Josephine? Remember, this is your last chance." Tears streamed down her face; she knew she could not give him what he wanted.

"Please sir, I really don't know what you are talking about. The last thing I remember is being kidnapped from my father's graveyard." The shade gave her a look of mock disappointment.

"Then I guess I have no choice than to punish you. Let's see, twenty lashes from the highest in command I think will suffice." The man who was tending the fire earlier came forward. Joe was raised to her feet and he sliced open the back of her tunic to expose her skin. It was then the man let out a hearty chuckle. Durza gave him a look.

"What do you find so amusing Blastphasian?"

"Your egg was stolen by a whore." Durza eyes filled with disbelief and then rage as he gazed upon the coat of arms tattooed on her back. At this moment Murtagh, who had been watching out of curiosity, thought it fit to reveal his presence.

"Durza, Galbatorix requests your personal report on the prisoner." This statement seemed to ebb Durza's anger.

"Tell the king I will be there momentarily." Murtagh nodded and left the room. Durza glanced back at his henchmen.

"Up the lashes to thirty." He ordered and stormed out. Josephine was unconscious before the first ten were up.

Durza sped his way through the labyrinth of halls and corridors. He knew his master would not be happy with the situation at hand. He reached the king's chambers, centering himself before he knocked.

"Enter," an even voice permeated through the door. The shade slipped inside. Galbatorix sat in a throne upon a high stage, his dragon encircling him from behind. The shade cautiously approached the first step.

"Tell me what I want to know Durza."

"The girl's name Is Josephine Elmota Mantus. She bears the mark of the whorehouse in Uru'baen. As for the location of the egg, she seems to sincerely have no idea what I am talking about."

"How can you be sure of this sincerity?" the king questioned.

"I used persuasive force, force far beyond her threshold, and still she denied knowing anything about the egg. I suspect she may have wiped her own memory clean to preserve its whereabouts. A little more persuasion and I should be able to draw it out of her."

"Do not underestimate the power of a common whore, Durza, or it will become your downfall. I was informed that she carried a Elvin dagger, is this true?"

"Yes, sire."

"Then it is possible that she had some help getting where she is know." Galbatorix paused and rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I want you to go to Uru'baen. Find out her circumstances and who she's been dealing with." Durza nodded and made for the door.

"Durza, if you fail to patch this little leak, I will dully mark this as your second hiccup. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, your majesty." And at that he slipped out the door. Meanwhile, several floors below an unknown figure sat in a dark cell callusing over the wounds of one very unfortunate girl…


	6. Chapter 6

Josephine woke with the all-consuming mind numbing sensation of pain. Every motion and every breath made her back burn and body twinge. She could feel the steady ooze of body fluids following the contours of her back; her arms lay useless by her side; her shoulders were severely swollen and one of them was possibly dislocated, but it was hard to tell. She struggled to bring herself to a sitting position as the scabs on her back rippled, pulled, and cracked. She let out her held breath in gasped cries, not caring who or what heard. She spotted a small, chipped pitcher of water and a wooden platter with a hunk of bread in front of the wrought iron door to her cell. She had no clue how long she had been unconscious, but judging by the sensation of the insides of her throat feeling like two pieces of leather grinding past one another, it had been awhile. Desperately needing a drink, she mentally mapped out the path of least resistance. She didn't dare to try and stand, so she gingerly scooted herself to the edge of the cot and tried to lower herself to the floor. Unfortunately her body gave out on her and she landed in a heap on the ground. She managed to keep in the wail bursting forth from her lungs down to a moan and used the legs of the cot as leverage to push herself to the door. Finally at her destination, she struggled into a sitting position and began to examine her prize with ragged breaths.

The water looked stagnant and had a slightly yellowed hue; a slight ring above the water line indicated that it had sat there long enough for some evaporation to take place; she must have been unconscious for more than a day or two. She shifted her gaze to the bread, which was equally stale and a little moldy along the edges. She took the bread, which was hard as a rock, and meticulously scraped the mold off with her fingernail. Next, she tried to lift the pitcher to her lips, but her injured arms had little control and managed to spill a portion onto her thighs. She settled with dipping the bread into the mouth of the pitcher and sucking the moisture from the bread. It all actually tasted better than she expected, but maybe she was just really hungry.

Left with nothing else to do but stare at the walls, the gravity of her situation really began to hit her. Tales told that no one brought in these dungeons came out alive and that these were very well going to be the last days of her young life, no matter how innocent she claimed herself to be. The thought of no longer existing on the earth struck her heart with fear, for existing was all she had ever known. Tears streamed down her face and she leaned awkwardly against the wall for what seemed like hours wallowing, thinking of the memories she would never make, a love she would have, and children she would never bear. Suddenly, chorus of footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts as they tramped their way nearer until she could make out a small party of soldiers coming towards her cell. She backed as quickly away from the door as she could, ignoring her injuries as they halted before her cell. Her stomach panged as one began to fiddle with keys to unlock the door.

"Ah, good. Nice and awake. The shade will be pleased." Said the head soldier as he grasped her by the arm and dragged her out into the hall. She was made to walk to the torture chamber where Durza stood waiting as they locked her onto the platform in the center of the room. She gathered up her courage and looked about the room at an audience completely made up of men, and became suddenly thankful for the fact that the remainder of her shirt was held up by her scabs.

"You're in trouble Girl; would you like to know why? Because I'm in trouble, and if I'm in trouble, then we all are in trouble." He said as he gazed deliberately around the room. Several of the guards averted their eyes, knowing very well that they were lucky to not be in Josephine's place for their own failure.

"Luckily fate has shone in my favor today." He grasped the platform suddenly and slammed it into standing position. Joe hissed as the vibration painfully jarred her body.

"I hope you've had a good rest, because I am not willing to be as lenient as I was the last time we had a little chat.

Pleasure permeated Durza's mind as he gazed upon the terrified face of his prisoner. The spirits he withheld for his power seemed particularly pleased of the festivities about to ensue, almost more so than their dealings with the elf in Gil'ead. Perhaps it was her apparent innocence that gave her more appeal and left him yearning to mark her flesh.

"It seems we have ourselves a breathing anomaly. Men, feast your eyes on the only virgin whore." The band broke out in a host of guffaws.

"Impossible!" a voice rang out from the back corner.

"You would think, but I was doing a little chatting with the hustler," he added as he grasped the pommel of his sword, "and as it turns out she was sold before she could be properly 'broken in'." A wicked smile seized his expression as the girl's face turned a bright shade of red and several of the men's gaze turned greedy. "He described the customer to be a strange woman accompanied by a huge cat." A few snickers broke out, which he glared to quiet them. He noticed a hint of recognition in the girl's face but it was fleeting. "Not your typical customer, is it? That's what I thought, so I did a little shopping around." He took a few steps toward the furnace and peered thoughtfully at the iron rods glowing hot with the coals; the spirits quelled within him in anticipation.

" It turns out that this woman was a local herbalist, who has since left town." He paused to pick up one of the red-hot pokers from the fire and tested its weight in both hands. The girl's eyes widened as he approached her. "We're going to play a game again. I'm sure you remember the rules." Her visage turned stoic. He grinned; she was going to try to fight it, and he didn't have a problem with that. "Tell me who she is and you win, be uncooperative and be kissed by fire." He said and held the iron up to her stomach until she had to suck in to avoid the heat.

Joe could not help but let out a hiss as the iron grazed her abdomen. During Durza's trip to the fireplace she had accepted the fact that she was going to die in this chamber even if she did remember what had transpired. She wanted to be strong but the pain made her weak. She tried to focus solely on her breathing as the shade continued to interrogate her, but she blocked out his words.

She closed her eyes. "_In. Out. In. Out. In…." _she thought until her leg seared. She wailed as he pressed the rod firmly against the top of her thigh. Her eyes flew open; he looked angry.

"There's no benefit to resisting. The sooner you give me what I want the sooner you will receive your reward." When she made no reply he touched her again until she choked on her own screams. He turned his back on her to get a fresh poker to allow her to catch her breath and give her time to think. Her head swam as the burning sensation seemed to override any other thoughts.

"Just give me one detail, and you can go back to your cell." He wagered. She desperately wanted to tell him something, anything to escape the pain. However, she could not come up with anything remotely worthy of reward. She wanted to cry in frustration; she wished for unconsciousness.

_"I should just piss him off and be done with it." _ She just needed to come up with something clever.

"The only thing that answering you would do is prolong my inevitable death, so you can just take that rod and stick it up your ass." She had never sworn out loud to someone before, and she was relatively pleased with the effect it had on the shade. His temper boiled over and he stuck the poker straight into her thigh and to the bone. It took less than ten seconds and she was out like a candle.

Dursa was displeased with himself; his prisoners did not usually affect him in the way that she did, and it was a problem. He should not have reacted that way in front of the others; it hurt his authority over them. And he was far from favor with the power above. He composed himself.

" Take her back to her cell and You," he said pointing to Murtaugh, who had been observing the happenings from the shadows, "make her fit for interrogation when I return." He desperately needed to find out more information, be it from the girl or by other means; otherwise, Galbatorix would put him on a spit.

Murtaugh was somewhat impressed at the way the girl handled herself. Most prisoners begged for mercy right away and held on to hope, but she had simply accepted her fate. He gazed down at her broken body as he carried here back to her cell and contemplated ways to ease her passing. If he healed her, it would only take longer for Durza to kill her, and thus more torture. But would not healing her also be a form of torture? His magic skills were intermediate at best, so he decided to at least close up the burns to prevent infection and tried to take away some of the pain. He froze when she stirred in his arms. A moan escaped her mouth as he lowered her gently onto the cot, trying to lay her on her side in a way that the pressure of her weight would be off most of the wounds. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment but Murtaugh did not think she was really seeing anything until she tried to stop him from examining the puncture burn on her thigh. The burn was bad; his touch triggered no pain, suggesting that all the nerve endings were dead.

"Just kill me…" she managed to get out. "End it." He didn't know how to answer her without sounding like a coward. The truth was she was going to die eventually, but his interference would make him become a target as well.

"I can't," he answered simply, "but I'll give you some peace." He wiped the hair off her sweaty brow as he chanted a phrase until the girl drifted off. He was once again alone with his thoughts.


End file.
